Human
by AlreadyPainfullyGone
Summary: Castiel is still in the hospital, having been stripped of his grace. Dean has to go and get him because they think he's crazy. Dean helps him cope with his first night as a human.
1. Chapter 1

"Cas? Hey Cas! You coming out of it yet?"

The ex-angel twitched slightly. His eyes were open at least, staring out over the empty fields they shot through. God knew what the hospital had shot him up with. There were several needle bruises in the crook of his elbow. Dean could guess why they were there, from what the nurse had told him Cas had been found on a boat and had been unconscious for days. After something like that, you wake up talking about angels and Lucifer rising? They'd drugged the hell out of him.

When Cas'd called him from the hospital Dean had wired him the money for airfare. When they'd taken down Pestilence and there'd still been no sign of him Dean had checked with the hospital. Given the psychological problems his 'brother' was exhibiting he would need to be collected in person.

A trip had never taken so long.

When he finally got to the hospital he barely recognised him. A skinny, pale guy in a little white room. His eyes looked huge and the stubble Jimmy'd been sporting since he became a vessel had lengthened and roughened into the beginnings of a beard. Dean sat on the edge of the bed and looked him in the eye. They widened as if trying to focus on him.

"Cas?" It came out almost a whisper. The angel's forehead creased for a moment then he shook his head, closing his eyes.

"He'll be fine once the meds wear off." The nurse layed a hand on Dean's shoulder and for a second he had to remind himself that she was not a demon. She's just a person, doing a job and faced with a creature that she can't possibly understand.

He leaves the clothes he's brought for Castiel on the bed and waits outside. Bundled into the oversize T-shirt and jeans he looks even smaller. It's a combination of near starvation and the loss of his powers. Castiel looks weak.

The road is straight for miles and it's already getting dark. Dean tries again.

"Cas?" This time he blinks slowly and sits up a bit. He swallows and the sound of the dry rolling of his throat fills the car. Dean's left the music off.

"Hey, you ok?" Cas coughs then chokes. Dean casts a glance at him and realises it was a laugh.

"Dumb question." Dean flicks the heaters on full and checks to make sure they're pointing at Cas. He seems to be coming to, running a hand across his newly acquired facial hair and straightening up to take in their surroundings.

"Where..." His voice cracks, grates and returns to its usual rumble "Where are we going?"

"Bobby's" Dean finds a bottle of water in the side of the door and passes it across. Castiel takes it, frowns and twists off the top, downing the contents. Barring the incident with famine this is the first time Dean's seen the angel with anything less than total self control. Watching him gulp water brings it home – Castiel is totally human now.

Neither of them speaks much. Dean spots a sign for a motel and, realising that they both need some serious rest, he turns off. Castiel notices but doesn't comment, he's not up to it. While Dean pays for the room he stays in the Car, then follows him to the door. It's like all the rooms he's seen Dean take, two beds, two lamps and a tiny bathroom. Dean dumps a bag at the foot of one of the beds, another smaller one by the other.

"That's you, over there." Dean jerks a hand at the second bed. "You need anything?" Castiel shakes his head. Dean treks out to the car again, this time for some food. When he gets back Castiel is already stretched out on the bed, fully clothed and asleep. Leaving some chips and a bottle of water by the bed he flips off the light and settles in.

Around two he wakes up and finds the other bed empty. He crosses the room and flings open the door before he's properly awake.

"Cas!" he leans over the balcony and yells out over the parking lot. "Castiel!"

"Dean?" Hunched at one end of the balcony, on a ledge beside the ice machine, is Castiel. He's wet through and shivering but doesn't seem to notice. Next to him is a flask shaped bottle Dean recognises as his own.

"You trying to kill me?" He slams the door and comes to a halt in front of the smaller man. He frowns and Dean doesn't know if it's because he can't understand or because he's drunk.

"You can't wander off Cas." Dean's slipped into the tone he takes with Sam. Big brother on the war path.

"I didn't" he's not arguing, he just sees no reason for Dean's outburst. "I just came out here." Dean picks up the bottle. It's almost empty.

"Well just drink inside until we get back!" Cas looks at him like he's not making sense. Dean snaps. "You're not an angel anymore, ok? You could get hurt or killed or possessed. There's enough stuff out there that can kill you without you acting like an idiot." He manages to hold his level blue gaze for a few seconds before dropping his eyes to the tar paper floor.

"Just...come back inside ok?" Castiel uncoils himself and walks past him, back into the room. He's not doing what Sam does, seething or sulking but unable to argue. He's just doing what he's told. Dean looks down at the bottle remembering Cas drunk, broken by the knowledge that God doesn't care. It's the only comfort he had then, and it's still all he has.

Inside Castiel is on the bed again, staring at the ceiling. He's still fully dressed, including his boots. Dean knows Cas isn't stupid. He knows that humans eat and sleep and change their clothes. He just doesn't think it's important. Castiel was a warrior, an angelic soldier, in his own eyes he's useless. One more casualty of war.

"Cas" He looks up and finds Dean in front of him holding out the remaining whisky. He takes it and Dean sits on the bed with a sigh.

"I am so not right for this." Castiel unscrews the cap and drinks, barely wincing. He's waiting for Dean to continue.

"You, uh..." He rubs a hand over his face "I get it, I really do. You're stuck with us down here. You've lost your mojo and right now we're staring down the barrel of the apocalypse. But you can't just give up."

"That's not what I'm doing" A slight slur undercuts the defensive growl.

"Really?" Dean snags the bottle and takes a swig "Because drowning your sorrows isn't exactly angelic behaviour. It's fine, you know, do whatever the hell makes you feel good, but if it gets you killed..."

"It won't" Cas turns to him, frowning in concentration. They both take up a lot of the tiny motel bed, shoulders nearly touching.

"It might." Dean's lost his anger. His voice is quieter now, too quiet. The intimacy of this hits him, hard. That this is, or was, a dangerous immortal being and he has no place being this close to it, in any sense. Despite that he can't make himself louder, he's stuck in place and he can't pull back. "You can't just drink 'til it stops hurting. Mainly because it won't. Believe me." He's fixed with a long, frighteningly sober stare.

"I know. Where do you think I get it from?" Dean's whiskey, Dean's choices. He's not accusing him but he's made his point. Dean is the person he's closest to. That's where he's taking his cues from.

"Yeah, might not want to follow that road." He quirks a humourless smile. "Doesn't end anywhere good."

"There aren't many alternatives at this point." Dean can't help but smile, briefly and genuinely. There's something of Castiel left after all. The atmosphere of unnatural intimacy is still there, so when Cas's frown deepens and he leans forward Dean isn't entirely surprised.

Cas's mouth hits his own awkwardly, finding the right angle after a few seconds. All Dean's aware of at first is the scrape of beard and the taste of alcohol. The feel of his mouth and the way it moves takes a second to process. He leans in and blindly takes a hold of Cas's hip, a hand runs up his spine and rests against his neck. After a few minutes they break for air, foreheads resting together, breathing raggedly. Neither relinquishes their hold. He hasn't felt like this in so long. Gulping down air, skin twitching and chest tight. Cas doesn't seem any better, eyes half closed over blown pupils.

"Cas?"

"I don't know." It comes out as one blurred rumble. Dean realises that Cas is drunk, probably the first time he's ever been this drunk. He pulls Dean back and kisses him again. Dimly, as they spread out on the mattress, Dean realises that Cas is still mimicking. Alcohol and Sex, the Dean Winchester coping strategy. But with his body shifting beneath him, uncertain and needy all at once, it's hard to think straight.

Somehow in between rough kisses Dean manages to gain the upper hand. Stripping back the layers of wet and dry clothing that separate them. Catching Cas's eye he sees that both of them are off the reservation here. He's hovering over a naked man, a former angel, and neither of them knows how to proceed. He's on fire, can't think of any way to get close enough to Castiel without breaking him. Can barely think at all.

Cas reaches up, places a hand on his shoulder and pulls him down. Kissing again, uncertainly fitting the planes of their bodies together and moving in such a way that neither of them fully controls. Dean can feel the blood drumming in his ears the whole time, hear Cas's blunt groans and his own grunts and moans, half smothered in his shoulder. As they come down he realises that he's shaking.

He moves so Cas, smaller than he is, can rest on top. Passing the top sheet between them awkwardly and tossing the dirtied bundle into the dark motel room. For a long time all he can hear is breathing, Cas's and his own. A few hours ago the man beside him was catatonic in a hospital. Now they're curled together on a sweaty motel bed breathing each other's alcohol laced breath.

After that long, agonising pause Castiel turns over. His face is expressionless, his own peculiar type of non-expression that makes him so hard to read. Dean's voice sticks.

"Cas..."

He rests his forehead against Dean's shoulder. It hit's him, what he's done. Dragged Castiel down to his own level. Disgust comes from nowhere. He's twisted this and he's gotten off on it. Got them both off on it. He leans down and murmurs against the mess of dark hair.

"Cas I'm sorry." The angel shifts sleepily. His reply half lost against Dean's chest.

"Don't be"

After a while he gets used to it. It takes three days to get back to Bobby's and by then they've settled into a pattern. Sharing a bed they've gotten to know each other, how they work together. Dean knows they're better than they were that first night. For a start, the second time, Cas is sober and comes to him anyway. Afterwards the guilt from before resurfaces, but it's only a reflex. They make each other, if not happy, at least comfortable.

Sam and Bobby can see it right away. There's already too much going on to get worked up over it. 'A hunter and an angel bunking together doesn't light the world on fire when there's already an apocalypse going down.' Other more colourful comments follow but nothing more judgemental than that. During the day he teaches Castiel to shoot, to fight with his reduced human strength and the basics of demon hunting. They don't touch any more than necessary. There's no obvious heat between them, just a connection made just out of view. It's there, they know and they leave it alone while they have to. After training, dinner with the others and a few hours of idle talk, that's when they get to be together.

A week later Sam comes up with a plan to stop the devil. It works.

Castiel is an Angel again.

Dean is alone again.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean threw the sheet to one side, revealing the Impala. There wasn't a sign that it had gone unused for a year. There were no traces of dust, corrosion or even oil smudges.

There was an angel in the passenger seat.

Staring straight ahead, almost as if he'd been there the whole time, since the battle with Lucifer. Dean opened the driver side door and got in.

"Hello Dean."

"Cas"

Without the familiar motions of driving Dean is lost for anything to do. Castiel isn't giving anything away either. Limitless patience must be one of the perks of becoming an angel. Dean remembers Cas as a human, impatient, needy, restless. Now he's spotless and still like a statue.

"So is this a social call or what?"

"It's a courtesy." Castiel shifts imperceptibly so he's looking across at him. "Our orders" Dean snorts bitter laughter "are to take Sam and keep him with the garrison." Dean's resentment is swept away with anger and sharp defensiveness.

"This is a joke right?" Castiel doesn't flinch. "You up and disappear on me, then you both come back and..." He collects himself. "You're not taking him."

"We are" Castiel pauses as if searching for exactly the right phrasing. The balance between duty and commiseration that used to come so easily. "If you intercede you face..."

"What?" Dean barks "The garrison? You?" He leans close to Castiel, too close, and hisses "You gonna throw me back into hell Cas?" At last his words strike home, Castiel's eyes drop from his face.

"Come on Cas, we're doing the greatest hits here. You tell me my brother's gotta go, I fight you. When do we get to the good stuff huh?" He's twisting the knife but he can't help it, this is worse than Castiel not coming back. "You gonna spill your guts to me again? Crawl into bed with the only sonofabitch stupid enough to let you?" Castiel looks up sharply. Dean reads the look there and it scares him despite himself. Castiel clearly wishes he could take it all back. The hospital, the motel and everything that came after. Wipe it out of existence. Dean moves away from him, back to his own side of the car, staring at the closed door of the garage.

"Sam will be kept with the garrison." The angel repeats softly. When Dean turns he's gone.

He gets the call in the middle of the night. Getting out of bed quietly, trying not to disturb Lisa he answers the phone. A minute later he's out in the garage, starting the car and manoeuvring onto the road. On the long drive he can practically feel the shame prickling his skin. Lisa deserves more than what he's given her. A semi-retired hunter (as if there could be such a thing) with hang ups over an angel. Because what was it really? Sex, comfort before the end of everything. He can't shrink it down to a term. Can't explain it as a relationship in terms she would understand. Castiel was never _his _anything.

Sam and his new family are gathered around the table when he arrives. His grandfather nods for Sam to take Dean into the panic room. Dean notes the symbols on the door. Enochian. They're on the walls inside as well but he's too distracted by then to take them in.

Castiel is lying on the floor, trapped by the symbols and covered in cuts and drying blood. Someone's worked him over, Dean recognises better than anyone else the signs of torture.

"Sam?" the almost whispered question causes the man on the ground to move, alerted to his presence.

"He came to take me Dean." Sam's looking down at Castiel with almost hurt bewilderment. "No idea where, we didn't let them get that far." He notices Dean's confusion. "We were ready for something like this. Didn't think the angels were just going to let it lie that I'm back now."

"Why did you..." Dean still can't quite look at Castiel full on.

"We've been trying to find out what they wanted, how many are out there. What they know." Sam notices Dean's unease. "Dean...I know you hate seeing this, but whatever happened with you two...it doesn't matter now, ok? He's not Castiel anymore, he's just another angel." Sam knows how to make this easier for him "Ok? Just like Zachariah, Michael, Uriel...Lucifer." Dean's head whips up sharply "They're all liars Dean" Sam continues forcefully "They don't care about anything outside themselves, you remember that."

On the ground between them Castiel coughs, spitting blood onto the floor. Dean knows he can't win. He can keep his brother and Castiel will probably die here. But if he helps Cas, and he so wants to, then Sam will be taken. Castiel will leave and won't come back. Dean is keenly aware that the only time he has anything to offer Castiel is when he's helpless. What can you give a wholly unstoppable angel that it doesn't have? Or couldn't take, given the chance?

"What do you want me to do, Sam?" He's angry now, angry at all of them.

"Dean..."

"No, you called me, you want something. Otherwise..." the truth hits him, hard. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have told me. You'd have done this by yourself."

Sam doesn't deny it.

"We need to know what the angels are planning." He states, after a long silence. "We're out of options here Dean. You're better at this than I am."

"Better at..." Sam throws him the knife and he catches it. Stares down at it for a long moment.

"You've got to be fricking kidding me."

"Dean..."

"No! Sam, God! How can you..." his anger seeps away. "How can you ask me to do this?"

"I'm your brother Dean." _I shouldn't have to._

It's unspoken but it's right. Dean's sold his soul for Sam, gone to hell, sacrificed everything in between life and death for his brother. Sam shouldn't need to ask for this.

He remembers Crowley, that Castiel came to him and asked him to use what he had learnt in hell. Castiel came to him on orders and asked him to torture again.

"_I would give anything, not to have you do this."_

What's he thinking now? Dean turns towards the angel on the floor. Still holding the knife. Sam waits behind him, wondering what he's going to do. Castiel is motionless, preparing himself. He's going to fight every inch of the way. Dean is almost pleased. Whatever Castiel is he isn't weak.

"Leave." He grates out and Sam does. He's got what he wants, in all fairness, what he needs. Dean understands Sam's motives in this.

The knife rakes across pliant, vulnerable skin. He lets it sink deeper and twists slightly. He almost relishes this. Blood starts to flow again, fresh this time. Castiel flinches and coughs more blood onto the floor. Dean looks down at the knife, at the blood welling across his own palm. He smears it across the nearest sigil. The holding spell around them breaks.

When he turns away from the wall Castiel is gone.

The hunters are furious. The two younger men yelling at him, at each other. The woman watching him with sharp eyed accusation. Sam must have told them, about him and Cas. He's told them about Ruby too, but somehow they can accept that. Demons tempt people, they play with them and prey on them. Angels are not skilled in seduction. Whatever Dean did to Castiel (and they are sure that he did do it _to_, as opposed to _with_) it was wrong and blasphemous. To them Dean knows he's a sickening disappointment. A hunter who won't hunt. Can't torture a being that tries to harm his own kin.

Sam is silent. He knows that Dean did what he did for a reason. It doesn't make it easier but he can almost understand it.

They've repainted the symbols that Dean defiled. This time they're to keep angels out, not in. Sam will stay in the panic room until his Grandfather is able to come up with a plan. He will fight for Sam, for the preservation of his family.

Dean doesn't have it anymore. He's strong enough to defend Sam, stubborn enough, stupid enough. He's just lost the part of him that wants to.

They don't try to stop him leaving. He knows Sam won't call him again.

Driving home in the grey pre-dawn he flips the stereo on and off restlessly. In the Impala, by himself with his music. Just like before. He could almost be on his way to see Sam, Sam who's still with Jessica. Sam who wants to be a lawyer. Without the music he loses that feeling. He's stuck in the present. Both are painful.

He doesn't notice Castiel for a good long while. At some point he becomes aware that the passenger side is occupied. Castiel looks exactly like he did before. Not a mark on him, suit and coat no more rumpled than usual. Tie absently askew.

"Angel mojo's still working then." Castiel doesn't respond. "Good to know." What he means is to antagonise the angel. He was, after all, stripped of his powers by a handful of symbols and abandoned by his brothers. Dean's fighting to make his voice light. It comes out how he feels – relieved.

"It's not over" The rough voice is detached as usual. No sign that under three hours ago he was coughing up blood. "Sam remains to be dealt with."

"No arguments there." Castiel looks at him. Dean's mildly amused that he's managed to surprise him.

"I'm not helping. But I get it, you guys need to know why he's back, and how. Sam's not going to go easy though."

"No, I don't believe he will." Cas says quietly. Dean almost winces. Castiel, angelic regeneration or no, was still tortured.

"Yeah." He stares at the road for a few minutes. Then checks to make sure Castiel is still there. "Be careful, next time...next time Sam isn't going to call me. He sure as hell isn't going to let up either."

When the angel doesn't respond Dean twists in his seat and chances a look. Castiel is looking at him strangely.

"What?" Dean barks, defensive.

"Nothing" Cas says. It's very much not nothing, even Dean can see that. "Thank you for the concern."

"Don't mention it." Dean smirks a little and tries for humour. There's silence.

"You should stay with Lisa." It comes from nowhere, but Dean isn't surprised.

"I wasn't going to..."

"Dean." Dean sighs. Angels could be annoying as hell.

"Ok, but I wasn't seriously considering it until today. What am I doing there? Cas? What possible reason is there to stay there, Lisa...she's great and I care about her and Ben more than..." He can't finish the thought. He can't even think it. _More than Sam._

"You're coping." Castiel says, almost surprised it seems to Dean.

"Yeah, 'cause me coping looks like this." He smiles bitterly. "Come on Cas, we both know how I cope. Stable relationships and good choices? Not it." The angel's intense scrutiny is unnerving him slightly. "The last time either of us felt...well, it didn't exactly end in the American dream."

The silence is like being crushed by a wall of water. Suffocating and cold.

"It didn't end." Castiel says finally, quietly.

"Really?" Dean's throat is dry. "I think I'd remember..."

"It was ended." Cas cuts him off and for a moment Dean wonders what it must be like for him. Stuggling to reconcile all he experienced as a human with his reduced emotional capacity and a burning need to do his duty.

"It's still over." Dean can't help but say it. Whatever the reason, whatever he had with Castiel is over.

"Yes."

"Great." Dean feels resentment creeping up on him. " 'cept some of us can't just go back to doing a job and blanking out the rest." He strikes the wheel because there's nothing else. "Fuck! Cas. Not everyone has it that easy."

"No, they don't" a simple answer, loaded with everything that Castiel can't afford to say. Dean gets it then. Castiel, for all that he's acting the part, is as lost as he is. Dean realises that he's pulling into his street.

"Cas..."

"Stay with Lisa." He's avoiding the last part of the conversation. Dean sighs.

"Be careful."

He almost can't stand the thought of turning back and seeing the angel's seat unoccupied. He waits until he's at the front door before he can't stop himself. But Castiel is right behind him, almost as if he left and returned, surprised to find Dean in a new location.

"Cas?"

The angel says nothing, but proffers a cell phone. Dean takes it without comment and goes into the house. Later on he'll find it amusing, this angelic version of 'call me'. But for the moment he's stuck on the fact that he can see Cas again. Almost as painful as not having him though, now that he's an angel again. They won't have anything close to whatever it was the apocalypse brought out in them.

But Dean will see him. They'll talk. It's almost enough.


	3. Chapter 3

The first call, the only call, came about a month after Castiel disappeared. Dean had given up carrying the thing around, he almost missed it. Digging through a drawer in the kitchen he grabbed it just as it gave a final ring.

"Hello?"

"Uh...Mr Winchester? This is a little unusual but...one of our residents would like to speak to you. Normally I wouldn't, well, we wouldn't, allow it. But your number is the only thing we found on him."

For the second time Dean found himself in his car, speeding towards a hospital. When he got there it was too familiar, the nurse, the ward and Cas. Castiel sitting on a bed in a little white room. When he made a move towards the door a hand stopped him.

"Son, before you go in there just...take a second." The middle aged nurse turned him away from the door and lowered her voice. "I don't know what they told you on the phone but your friend, he's a little confused. Just be prepared you know?" Dean couldn't think of anything to say. He opened the door.

"Cas?" His head snapped up at the intrusion. He formed an uncertain smile.

"I guess." Dean's taken aback. He's looking into the face of Jimmy Novak, or what Jimmy looked like in his photos. The easy smile and open face of someone who has never suffered.

"You know who I am?" Dean edges further into the room and takes a seat in a chair near the window.

"Should I?" He actually seems worried that he's offended him.

"Yeah." Dean can't begin to cover why Castiel should know him. This is Castiel, he's sure of it. Despite the appearance of Jimmy's easy humanity there's still something about him. Something uniquely Cas.

"Sorry." The frown that crosses his face is one of self-doubt.

"It's ok. Uh...they found my number on your cell, 's why I'm here. Do you remember..."

"No" Cas cuts him off with a small smile "I can safely say I don't."

"Nothing?" Another frown.

"Pain. I guess that's why I don't know anything. They only have my name because..." He laughs to himself.

"What?"

"It was written on my arm." He looks at Dean as if expecting an explanation. Dean just looks confused. "I know! someone found me in a parking lot with 'Castiel' written on me in permanent marker. It's bizarre."

"Anything else?"

"Not really." He seems unconcerned, but then he's had a week to get used to this. "I had a suit. They found a cell phone in the pocket. Had your number in it." He nods at Dean "Other than that...just noise and pain."

"Noise?" Dean's voice is sharper than he intended.

"Like screaming, higher and on and on...probably a siren or something." Dean doesn't respond. Angel noise, it has to be. An angel has been speaking to Castiel. Castiel who is currently, mysteriously human. Dean knows Cas must have been in trouble, is that why he left the phone? Had he know this would happen? Castiel waves a hand to attract his attention.

"So...how do I know you?" His head's on one side, hair falling messily. He looks younger than Dean, younger than Sam even.

"I'm Dean."

"and...come on, are we family? Roommates? You date my sister in college?" Underneath the joke Dean can sense Cas's interest. He's working it out.

"We just, know each other." Dean knows it's a lame answer, He turns his attention briefly to the window. Cas's next question comes from behind him.

"Have we slept together?" Dean whips round and faces the level blue gaze of the man on the bed. Cas's eyebrows draw together, he knows.

"Huh." He rubs a hand self consciously across the sole of his foot. "Interesting."

"It's not..." Dean can't let it just lie there, can't let Castiel think whatever it is he's thinking. "I have a girlfriend, and a son."

"So I'm just..." he looks confused "What am I exactly?"

"There were circumstances" Dean stands up awkwardly and sits on the end of the bed. Castiel doesn't flinch away, he seems intent on the conversation now. "You were kinda stuck where you didn't want to be. We were stuck in the same...mess." The loosest, fuzziest definition of apocalypse. "And...it happened."

He feels the need to defend it, those nights of guilty, desperate pleasure. Because it wasn't how he's making it sound, cold and lonely. It was a catalyst, the exact circumstances that made them work together. Humanity meant Castiel suddenly being able to feel, made him warm and alive and responsive. Angelic Castiel, for all he was similar, had lost that.

Memories that he's successfully repressed until now take their cue and jump him. The feel of Cas's body sliding against his own. The muscles at the base of his spine twitching against Dean's stomach. The overwhelming sensation of being inside him. The way Cas would curl up afterwards, messy, damp hair pressed into the hollow under his jaw. The mindless, breathless sounds he made when...

"Wow." Dean's snapped back to the present. Cas is watching him intently, eyes wide and almost disbelieving. "You're not making it up."

"No" Dean's voice has dried up. He coughs. "No, I'm not."

Castiel closes the small space between them and runs a hand up to Dean's shoulder, kneading the muscle slightly. Dean can feel the need there, Cas is testing it, feeling for any sign that he belongs. Between the onslaught of memories and the warm hand against his skin he almost looses it. For a second he enjoys the contact, then reluctantly pulls away.

"Sorry." Castiel draws himself back against the headboard and crosses his legs. "Guess I'm kind of a cheap imitation, huh?"

"No." Dean rubs a hand over his face "It's just...you left. There was a good reason but you left and...it's complicated, but you couldn't come back. Now here you are."

"Did I want to come back?"

"I don't know."

"So, the reason I couldn't come back. Is that still...God this is too weird, talking about myself like this."

"I hear that." Dean sinks back onto the bed. "I don't know, I think all this, the memory loss? I think it's you. You did something so you could come back. You left your name and my number so I could find you" Cas raises an eyebrow "I know that sounds crazy."

"Almost." Castiel stretches suddenly, frowning as if his own movement surprised him. "So, how does this work? Can I go home now? Or, uh...do I have to stay here?"

"The hospital's gonna let you come home with me, just, if anyone asks? Your last name is Winchester."

"Got it." Castiel gets to his feet and pushes his feet into the shoes by the bed. "Uh...Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You called me Cas...that's not my name." He's watching him carefully, knowing almost instantly that he's said something wrong. "If you want you can..."

"No, it's...I can stick with Castiel."

"Thank you"

In the car they sit in silence. Dean absorbs himself in the task of driving but can't relax. Castiel is sitting next to him, less than a foot away, and he's still not with him. Almost as if he senses Dean's discomfort Castiel breaks the silence.

"What am I like?"

"What?" He turns to Dean with a look that Dean's seen many times before. The verging on impatient gaze of someone with no time for tact.

"You heard me Dean."

"Ok, you were kind of a dick."

A very unangelic snort of laughter interrupts him. He can't help but smile.

"Then you changed, got a little more relatable. Easier to be with." He doesn't want to draw this out, thinking about Cas is not something he indulges in often. But he owes him this. His history, or as much of it as this man can understand.

"That's when..."

"Yeah."

"And I changed back?"

"You, uh...yeah you changed, you couldn't help it I guess."

"You're not telling me everything."

"No I'm not" Dean sighs "Look, this memory loss thing? I hope to God it's not permanent, because if it is? I might have to tell you everything and it's not all stuff you're going to like... or be able to deal with."

Castiel gives him a long look.

"What if I don't want to know." Dean meets his eye, but it takes a lot of effort.

"Then I can give you some money, get you set up, and then leave you the hell alone. Whatever you want." He pauses then says the words that just occurred to him. He means them, more than he can make Castiel understand. "You deserve it. Whatever you want."

"What about you?" his voice deepens as it softens, lowering to the tone Dean remembers from the motel. The night Cas became human. "What do you want?" Dean wants to, but he can't say. It's not fair to Castiel. That the one thing he wants is to know what they are to each other. To fall back into their pre-apocalypse life.

"Hell if I know"

Castiel stays at Lisa's for a week. A week of snatching sleep on the couch, eating dinner with the weight of silence hanging over him. Dean isn't surprised when he asks to leave. He finds the ex-angel an apartment over a hardware store. Pays the rent himself from his limited construction pay check. They say goodbye awkwardly and Dean doesn't hear from him again. After two months he gets a letter, a cheque for the rent he fronted Castiel and notice that Cas's found a job.

A few weeks later he gets another letter. This one isn't from Castiel. It's a letter from his grandfather, a short bitter note to let him know that the angels finally got to Sam. Sam's been missing for just over three days. The enochian seals were breached. Dean feels the knowledge settle in his chest. There for the long haul. He's failed his brother, again.

He's not sure exactly how he winds up at Castiel's apartment. Walking through the streets gone midnight he's taken a few wrong turns and ended up right outside. He's drunk, naturally. It's only after he's climbed the concrete steps and knocked on the door that he remembers. Cas is gone. What kind of reception can he expect from a stranger?

Castiel opens the door before he can head back to Lisa's. He's barefoot, wearing a faded T-shirt and pyjama pants. Mentally Dean curses. Normal people slept at 2am.

"Dean?" Castiel opens the door wider and squints tiredly at him. Before Dean can think of a response, Castiel takes in his rumpled and more than slightly drunk appearance. "What's wrong?"

It's so easy to go inside, following Cas into the tiny living room. Sitting on the worn couch and watching him take a seat opposite, waiting for an explanation. He looks so patient, almost Castiel again. But Dean knows the difference. Castiel fell and because of that Dean's lost the one person he's been comfortable with in a good long while.

"I...uh...my brother, Sam, he's...He's gone missing." He shakes his head to clear it and corrects himself " 'cept I know where he is, I just can't get him back." To his credit Castiel doesn't bat an eye at this. Dean heaves a sigh and closes his eyes. Now or never. "Angel's took him."

"Dean..."

"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. But all that stuff..." He ticks off on his fingers "Angels, demons, wendigos, the devil, God...maybe" He checks to see how Castiel is taking this and sees that he's frowning warily. "Yeah, believe me I am right there with you. Sometimes I can't believe the shit out there but, me and Sam? We used to fight that stuff."

"You fought, angels?"

"Hey, some of them are frickin nuts!" He barks nervous laughter. He didn't mean to tell Cas everything, he must be completely wasted.

"But, uh...well the thing is, you were one. An angel."

"That's...probably the craziest thing you've said so far." But he's gone quiet, can't summon up as much fear or anger as he should. Dean spots something in his eyes. All of this is resonating.

"You were, and a dick, naturally. But then you helped us" He smiles without much humour "we saved the world. You got screwed over by God big time though, I mean, you lost your powers, everything. But you still helped. Then they took you back."

"I think..." Castiel's groping for something, the strain of remembering creases his forehead. "At the hospital, they gave me something for nightmares...night terrors. I saw things like that, the end of days and..."

The spark he saw in Castiel back at the hospital dies suddenly. His face loses its new youth and becomes thoughtful. Dean realises that Castiel believes him, maybe he doesn't remember it happening. But he knows it did.

There's something else too. Dean knows, without any doubt, that the one thing Castiel can remember is his fall. The part of the dreams that remains unshared, the pain of tearing out his own grace. The shadow in his eyes is so much like the one in his own, the one that surfaces with the memories of hell.

Castiel remembers now and it's all his fault.

He's ruined Castiel's life in one drunken rant.

"Cas? uh, Castiel? I didn't..."

"Cas" It's faint but the voice still carries authority "It's Cas. I know."

"I'm...God, I need a bigger word than sorry." Dean can't bring himself to look him in the eye. "I shouldn't of come here..."

It's a combination of alcohol and shock that blur the next few seconds. One moment he's staring at his boots, crushed by the weight of what he's taken from Castiel. The next he's pressed into the back of the couch, Castiel kneeling in front of him, hand on his neck pulling him into a kiss. He responds without thinking, mercifully, and the arm wraps closer around him. It's been nearly two years since he last felt this. Castiel breaks away first, panting, and swallows nervously.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm doing this."

"No it's..."

Cas's mouth hits his again. Dean's hands fall to his waist, instinctively tugging at the fabric. The other man breaks the kiss again and fixes him with a look. Uncertainty warring with lust.

"Sorry, I..." Dean starts to back off but Castiel's mouth moves to his neck, short circuiting the sentence en route. Dean's voice locks in his throat, producing only a strangled groan. A light hand fumbles with his belt, urgency overcoming clumsiness.

"Cas" he can't help the rawness in his voice "Cas...please..." His mouth covers Dean's again.

They wake up on the floor by the couch, cushions pawed to the floor around them, half covered in a plaid blanket. Dean's back is against the base of the couch, Cas is facing away from him with his head on Dean's outstretched arm. For a second Dean almost believes he's in Bobby's spare room. Castiel shifts and presses back against him, Dean's arm tightens around his waist.

"Do you remember why?" He asks suddenly. Knowing Castiel is awake, knowing he will understand the meaning of the question.

"No alternative." The reply is bleary and half smothered against his skin as Cas turns into his shoulder. "It was worth it though."

"The pain or the amnesia?"

"Both" Dean moves slightly, trying to get more comfortable on the threadbare carpet.

"Who do you think it was anyway, speaking to you?"

"No one" Castiel sits up slightly and from his suddenly grave expression Dean knows he isn't going to like what's coming. "It was me, the pain of removing my grace..." He notices Dean's expression and leans against him to soften the blow of his words. "Dean, imagine my true voice, screaming."

Dean can't bring himself to think about it. Castiel has suffered, suffered a huge amount to be here. On the floor of a shabby apartment, naked and entwined with him underneath a scratchy blanket. From the first night he gained humanity this is what they've been heading for. All the rest, Sam torturing Castiel, Sam being taken and him losing Cas over and over again. It's bought him this. This time.

The idea alone is ludicrous. So is the notion that he would leave Lisa and his son, his whole goddamn fairytale, for this. Whatever it is it's not normal. It's not the apple pie life. It certainly won't be restful or easy.

But that doesn't mean it isn't going to go that way.


End file.
